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Registered Phenomena Code: 557
Object Class: Beta-White Beta-Yellow1
Hazard Types:
Sapient Hazard, Contact Hazard, Destabilization Hazard, Visual Hazard
Containment Protocols: RPC-557 is to be contained in a standard humanoid containment chamber, with access to Site-8’s leisure areas during its free time. Once a month RPC-557 may submit a request for an item to keep in its chamber, which will be reviewed and approved or denied by the Research Staff assigned to it. When outside its containment chamber, it must wear an armband depicting its Object class and registered phenomena code. RPC-557 is also required to have a biweekly therapy screening to identify any possible degeneration to its psyche. Although it is aware of its anomalous property, staff is advised not to mention it in RPC-557's presence outside of testing due to always resulting in its agitation.
Access to the Internet | Denied | For obvious reasons, RPC-557 was denied access to the Internet. RPC-557 instead chose a PC with a number of video games installed that were chosen by it |
Indoor bike trainer | Approved | RPC-557 requested this item so it can ‘keep in shape’. It was approved due to it raising RPC-557’s morale |
Half a dozen of books and a notebook | Approved | RPC-557 started keeping a ‘reading journal’. It was also allowed a monthly book replacement |
Someone to talk to | Approved | RPC-557 was given access to Site 8’s leisure areas under the protection of Site 8 security |
Description: RPC-557 is a sapient dimensional anomaly which has the form of a young female adult. Although it appears as a completely normal human specimen, the anomalous property of RPC-557 is that it is a being that exists in only two dimensions, but is still able to interact with its surroundings. RPC-557 is still affected by regular rules of physics, such as apparent size, but due to its anomalous nature an observer is able to physically interact with RPC-557 as long as they can see it, and there is no physical obstruction between them (such as glass, see through plastic and similar materials). Any clothing RPC-557 wears will exhibit the same behavior, losing it once it is removed from it. From RPC-557’s perspective, the contact begins from the part of its body which is closest to the interacting observer. RPC-557 has itself described the experience as ‘smothering’ and ‘kind of how you see light going around your finger when you block the sun, only you can feel the sunrays as a big fleshy thumb’.
Attendees: Researcher Markovitz and RPC-557
1.
Procedure: RPC-557 and Researcher Markovitz stand across each other, 50 cm between them. Researcher extends his finger and drags it from RPC-557’s temple to her hand2
Result: Both RPC-557 and Researcher Markovitz report the feeling of contact. Researcher Markovitz does not retract or extend his hand at any moment, even after passing his finger from RPC-557’s neck to its shoulder. RPC-557 describes the experience as ‘ticklish’.
2.
Procedure: Same as above, more pressure through finger applied
Result: Visible deformations on RPC-557’s neck and clothing are visible. It should be noted change in pressure was seen, even though the pressure from the finger was consistent, but the distance between the Researsher and RPC changed.
3.
Procedure: While keeping visual contact and putting a finger on RPC-557’s temple, Researcher Markovitz would walk backwards until fully covering RPC-557 with his finger
Result: Contact is still able to be held. Researcher is able to feel RPC-557’s body, including skin, hair and clothing. RPC-557 reports the feeling of smothering and says it is able to feel Researcher Markovitz’ finger’s warmth.
4.
Procedure: Same as above, only a pencil is used to achieve contact
Result: No contact was kept after walking away. It seems there is no effect when using objects to attain contact.
While feeding in the Site cafeteria, RPC-557 was suddenly flung across the room, resulting in multiple bruises and a sprained wrist. After a short investigation, it was found that Junior Researcher [REDACTED] was entertaining herself in the cafeteria by flicking her finger across different staff members. She failed to recognize RPC-557 and accidentally activated its anomalous properties when ‘flicking’ it. Junior Researcher [REDACTED] was later reprimanded for both her behavior and failure to identify RPC-557. After discussing other possible scenarios where RPC-557 could be damaged, it was decided that it be elevated to a Beta-Yellow object class, and wear an identifiable armband when outside its containment chamber.
[[include component:rate]]
Registered Phenomena Code: 719
Object Class: Gamma-Yellow
Hazard Types:Additional Properties: | Aggression | Ballistic | Climatological | Geological | Grouped | Invisibility | Psychotronic | Sapient | Sentient | Transmutation | Bio-Hazard | Contact | Corrosive | Electromagnetic Force | Explosive | Extreme Temperature | Radiation | Toxic | Destabilization | Extra-Dimensional | Gravitational | Teleportation | Temporal | Auditory | Emotional | Ideological | Info-Hazard | Memory Alteration | Mind-Control | Mind-Regression | Sensory | Visual | Animated | Aquatic | Ecological | Extra-Terrestrial | Immeasurable | Incorporeal | Mechanical | Microscopic | Organic | Regenerative | Titanic | Tychokinetic | Replicating | Newtonian | Ontological | Divine | Hallucinogen | High Velocity | Proto-Mechanical | Proto-Newtonian | Proto-Sapient |
Containment protocols: Due to the nature of RPC-719, it is impossible to contain any instance by orthodox means. As of 23/08/2019, Antarctic Region 17 (AR-17) is to be regarded as containment for RPC-719 . See Addendum-719-1 for a list of containment efforts.
Attempt 1: A CSD bunkhouse was created and then partially destroyed. When an instance appeared, a specially constructed lead containment box was lowered over it. The instance tore through the box immediately, finished repairs of the bunkhouse and then proceeded to bend the lead box back into shape, reconnecting the tears with frost.
Attempt 4: A titanium Containment box was created. The dummy CSD bunkhouse was damaged once again. When an RPC-719 instance appeared, the box was lowered and the instance was captured. After 10 minutes of no apparent change, the containment attempt was deemed a success. The Box was recovered and brought to Research point 26, 50 km away from the capture point. When opened, it was revealed empty. After investigation, it was discovered that a number of screws in the box were replaced by ones made of ice: It is believed that the instance shattered the originals and then simply crawled through the resulting holes.
Attempt 8: An improved Containment box was made and the CSD bunkhouse damaged again. This time, a larger group of RPC-719 instances showed up, and instead of repairing the bunkhouse, they simply tore it down and left.3
Description: RPC-719 is the collective term for a group of sentient snow constructs inhabiting AR-17. Each instance is indistinguishable from one another, it being of a bipedal humanoid with elongated arms and legs lacking any digits, a long neck-like stump with a face visually similar to a human skull at the end of it with each instances’ height ranging from 6.5 to 8 meters.
RPC-719 act as builders and renovators of structures inside the AR-17 area. Every time a construct is damaged inside of the Region, a group of RPC-719 (The size of the group being relative to the damages) will appear nearby. Instances will ignore any other being nearby, instead concentrating on repairs: Once they are finished, they will dissipate into the surrounding snow. No method of communication can be seen between instances: It is presumed they communicate either non-verbally or share a hive mind-like sentience. Researchers also believe RPC-719 is able to read thoughts of humans at a subconscious level, due to another behavior: At times instances will leave the interior of AR-17 and approach Research points, guard towers or any other similar outpost and begin construction of various facilities (A list of these can be found in Addendum-719-2) with different purposes, mostly recreational.
The facilities will primarily be made from ice and snow, but a small number of anomalous objects were used in the creation of some. If a facility is not used in the way it was intended for, it will be torn down by RPC-719 and any anomalous object will be recovered. Attempts at containing the objects by separating them from its facility resulted in only a faster mobilization of RPC-719: Any place where an anomalous object was held was torn down by an instance, but also later repaired by it after recovery. No anomalous effects have been observed in the subjects using these facilities, but due to Authority rules, staff is forbidden from using them. The only exception to this rule is for facilities using anomalous objects in its construction, so the objects may be contained. The facilities are to be used by a group of CSD once weekly as to not be torn down by RPC-719, although Researchers may volounteer instead.
Facility 719-1: Additional bunkhouse. A number of Researchers have been heard discussing the discomfort of having to live in small bunkhouses. The resulting facility had more space than a standard one, with simple beds and small ice pillars next to each with a globe that would start eminating light after being touched. Torn down after a week an five days after a number of globes were taken out of their spots for research.
Facility 719-7: Small house. for a visiting senior researcher. About a day before Senior researcher Snow came to Outpost 6, a number of instances appeared at the outpost and began construction. The result was a small one story house, with no visible entrance. After the arrival of Researcher Snow, he was informed of the facility and decided it to investigate it himself. When approaching the house, a door-like hole opened in the wall, creating an entrance. After Snow entered, the portal closed. This caused a panic and an attempt to destroy a part of the house was being mobilized, when Snow came out. He explained the house seemed to have been made to comfortably host anyone who entered it. It included a living room, bedroom, bathroom with hot water (created through unknown means) and even a room which resembled a laboratory. The facility was torn down after an hour of Senior Researcher Snow’s departure.
Facility 719-48: Garage-like facility, purpose unkown. It was encountered in the first level of AR-17, in the process of being torn down by an instance of RPC-719. No distinguishable features were seen, except for a structure on the roof resembling an ice cream cone.
Facility 719-54: Mess hall with interior aurora borealis light system. Created in Research point 12, one of the larger points created by the Authority. It featured a much larger space than the regular mess hall and a transparent roof which constantly showed the night sky filled with aurora borealis, regardless of the actual sky. Kept due to it raising staff morale.
Facility 719-63: Collection of underground hot-pots. A group of RPC-719 instances started digging a hole inside Research point 34, and after two hours steam started to pour out of it. When investigated, it was revealed that a collection of hot-pots were created using a number of cylindrical cases made out of an unknown material which were able to fill themselves with hot water and empty themselves through unknown means. Approved for continuous use after point 34 researchers refusing to abandon more anomalous items.
Facility 719-78: Military reinforcements. After an attack by a splinter group of GOI-███, a group of RPC-719 appeared and started repairing the damages done in the attack. The instances installed an additional number of defenses, consisting of spiked pitfalls, walls reinforced with frost and three more watchtowers in strategically important positions. What should be noted that after most of the instances left after the repairs and reinforcements were finished, a single instance stayed inside the military point. ‘Snowcone’ (The designated codename given by the Authority agents) still hasn’t left the facility to this day, instead spending its time keeping the traps and constructs in good shape. Any changes in its behavior are immediately to be reported.
Discovery: In an expedition lead by MST Papa-1 (''Berserkers'') of a lower level of AR-17, the MST was assaulted by an unknown group of hostiles: In the retreat to the first level, MST leader 'Rathound' used an explosive to collapse a tunnel as to eliminate the threat. The explosion caused significant damage to the structural integrity of the area in which the surviving members of Papa-1 were in, which would’ve lead to a cave-in and a total loss of operatives if not for the appearance of an RPC-719 group. Around twenty instances appeared around Papa-1, ignoring their gunfire directed at them and proceeded to hold the walls and roof of the cavern. Whilst most of them were repairing the cavern, two instances surrounded themselves around the MST and created bunker-like shelter as to protect the operatives from any falling debris. After the reparations, RPC-719 tore down the bunker and retreated. After this event, they started to be seen more often on the lower levels of AR-17.
"I'm tellin' you Anne, those were gunshots!"
The farmer shouted as he stared into the dark from the porch of his house, his loaded Winchester tightly held in his grip, its strap loosely hanging from his shoulder. Moonlight dripped from the cracks in the clouds as they creeped their way across the sky. The autumn night was unusually cool, strands of wind rustling the leaves around the the small one-story home and scratching them against walls of the barn. The farmer squeezed the rifle and the flashlight tighter in his grip.
"So what if they were, Daryl?", his wife scoffed back from the doorframe. Whilst she was still in her nightgown, she was'nt in a good mood: "It might jus' be couple o' hunters, that's all!"
"Well, no hunters are gonna be huntin' on my property, I'll tell you that!"
"Daryl for Chrissakes get back inside! They probably sent someun' to deal with the thing that keeps killing the pigs!"
The man stopped to think for a second, the grip on his rifle relaxing ever so slightly. He stared at the dark gathering of trees across the farmstead, illuminated only by the moon and the flashlight he awkwardly held along with his rifle. The woman had a point: Something has been killing the animals of nearby farms. Multiple farm owners complained to the sheriff, and he assured them that he will get someone to solve the problem. After a few moments, he sighed, lowered the gun and flashlight and turned to enter the house and go back to sleep.
As he entered his home, a sound suddenly burst through the thick grove and shattered the silence of the night: An animalistic, primal screech the likes of the farmer had never heard of, followed by a much more human and shorter scream.
Daryl whipped around to look back at the forest. He cocked the rifle:
"Anne, get inside.", He murmured
"Daryl, don't do nothin' stu-"
The farmer suddenly barked back: "I SAID GET INSIDE!"
Anne stood there for a moment, nodded her head, went into the house and closed the door. Daryl started running towards the dark grove, gun and flashlight in hand. Branches and leaves crunched under his feet, the shadowy trees silently watching him as he ran. He slowed down once he entered deeper into the forested darkness, listening intently for any noise. A chill ran down his spine as he realised he could not hear any: Besides his heavy breathing, there was only the wind rustling the leaves on the branches, with no wildlife silently chittering from the ground or cheeping from the tree. All of a sudden, he heard a thud not too far from where he was standing. Immediately raising his gun, he slowly approached the source of the noise. As the flashlight revealed the origin of the sound, Daryl's fear was suddenly replaced with confusion. There on the ground, laying on his stomach, was a man dressed in military equipment.
Crouching next to the soldier, he nudged him with his Winchester. The man on the ground let out a weak groan in response. Daryl relaxed :"At least he ain´t dead", he muttered, wanting to break the suffocating quietness. He observed the man more closely: He was definitely dressed in military garb, but not in any Daryl recognised, a fact that was stranger than finding a half-conscious soldier in the middle of a forest for someone like him, who prided himself on his military knowledge, one that he gained through quite the effort. The uniform itself was dirty and stained, and shredded in some parts. As he investigated the equipment and the man wearing it, he sucked the cool air through his teeth as he realised the man had dislocated his shoulder. Daryl let go of the gun and put the flashlight onto the ground next to him, placing his hands onto the man on the ground:
"Get ready, this is gonna sting like a bitch."
Before the soldier even managed to muster a reaction, Daryl popped the shoulder back into place. The soldier screamed out in pain, a noise that was swallowed by the darkness around them. The man slumped back unto the ground, unconscious. Daryl growled silently:
"Hey. Hey! Wake up, this ain't no place to have a lie-down!"
The farmer took of the man's helmet, throwing it aside and slapped the stranger's face a couple of times, trying to wake him up. He didn't know why he felt lie he had to stay silent and get out of the forest as fast as he could. He felt his muscles twitch from the rush of adrenaline, and the hairs standing up: Something had heard them. He slowly got up, taking and cocking his gun once again, slowly looking around, trying to ignore the voice inside of his head screaming he run and not look back. As he scanned his surroundings, the soldier began groaning, waking from his unconsciousness. Daryl crouched next to him, still looking around:
"Can you walk?"
"Khhh…", the man groaned in response.
"I'll take that as a yes. Come on, get a move on!"
Daryl picked up his lightsource and gripped the rifle with one hand, helped the man up and threw his arm around his shoulders, the difference in size not helping. The ageing farmer was not a small man, but the mysterious stranger was lacking in that department. The stranger whimpered: The shoulder wasn't the only damaged thing.
"Ah, shut it! You'll live."
The man only managed to muster a wheeze as a response, before he started limping next to his saviour. The duo walked through the forest, only the cracking of branches, the soldier's silent complaints and the farmer's breathing breaking it. Daryl cursed his constitution, wishing he was young again so he could simply carry this stranger, instead of half dragging him through the dark. As he neared the edge of the forest, something woke up in Daryl. Some primal fear, something that made him brake into a cold sweat and to start walking faster. The suffocating silence was now seemingly becoming a vacuum. The forest's end was getting closer and closer, the lights of the house breaking through the tree trunks. Daryl increased his speed, breathing heavily, eyes darting, staring at the shadows that seemed to stretch around him, trying to make him pay for taking away their prey.
The duo suddenly burst out of the treeline and Daryl whipped around, momentarily forgetting about his companion, and shot into the darkness behind him. The shot boomed, illuminating the dark night for a split moment, and took off a number of low hanging branches. But other than them, there was nothing there. The farmer breathed heavily, staring into the darkness. The feel of being hunted was not leaving him.
"Daryl! Dear God almighty, are you alright? What happened? Who's that with you?"
Daryl snapped back into reality, woken up by the voice of his wife.
"Anne! Chrissakes, help me get him inside."
The wife ran to her husband, stopping a few feet away from him, letting out a short shriek from the ghastly appearance of the soldier. The light from the house now clearly showed the severity of the stranger's state: He was covered in dirt and gore, with a collection of wounds on the exposed parts of his body, some still leaking blood.
They rushed the man inside and as Daryl went to lay him down on the sofa, his wife yelled:
"Not there Daryl, you'll mess it all up!"
"Goddamnit woman, then where do I put him?"
"Well, not there!"
The farmer grunted in irritation and lowered the soldier onto the carpet. It looked like Anne was about to say something once again, but the stare her husband gave her was enough to make her reconsider. As Daryl and Anne began stripping the stranger of his gear and preparing the first aid kit, they heard a soft gasp. A small, ruffle-haired girl, not older than ten, was staring at the unfolding scene through the staircase's beams, still in her pajamas and clutching a small plush rhinoceros.
"Lucy, what are you doing here? Go back to bed!", the farmer said, trying to mask the lasting fear in his voice with strictness.
"Daryl, you obviously woke the poor thing up. Come here Lucy, everything's fine, let's get you back to bed…"
The girl asked: "Is he gonna be awright, pa?"
Daryl looked at the man. He saw cleaner roadkill than him.
"He's gonna be just fine Lucy, don't you worry."
Anne picked up the child and carried her upstairs. The girl did not stop staring at her father and the man on the carpet. Daryl waited until he heard his wife's steps on the floor above them, and then he sighed:
"Shit, alright. Let's get you patched- Huh?"
The stranger was reaching towards the pile of his gear, trying to pull at the strap connected to his water container. Daryl picked the bottle up and unscrewed the top.
"Yeah, I reckon you would be thirsty after whatever it is you went through."
He helped the man drink a bit of the fluid in the container, and let him lie down again on the carpet. He sloshed the drink around in the container, and took a gulp himself only to immediately spit it out. Whatever it was, it wasn't water: It had bitter, pulpy, disgusting taste. The soldier managed to squeeze out a chuckle:
"Hhh…Heh. Had the same reaction the first time I tried it myself. You get used to it after a while."
The stranger was definitely not from around here. He had an Australian accent, and a much less gruff voice that was typical for the locals. Groaning, he sat himself upright, as Daryl watched in shock. The man had looked like he would need a few weeks, if not months in a hospital just a few moments ago. Now it just seemed he would be alright after a few days in an infirmary. The soldier slowly rose to his feet, clenching his teeth as he did so.
"Did you take my rifle?", he asked.
"I, uh… Found you without one."
"Shit… OK. Did you find anyone else?"
"No. You're the only one I found. What were you doin' there anyways?"
The man ignored the question. He limped towards the window, staring at the forest outside. At this point, Anne returned from putting Lucy back to sleep. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, gawking at the man looking outside the window. The stranger spoke:
"Do you have any sort of shelter nearby?"
The wife managed to stutter out: "We…we've a storm shelter by the barn. Daryl, what is going on?"
"I'd recommend you take the child and hide there. Don't get out 'til the sun rises. Also, you'll need to give me a rifle, if you have a spare one."
"Now hold on for just one second, friend. You ain't goin' be doin' shit unless you answer some questions."
The soldier tenses up for a second, but then sighs.
"Right, I guess that's fair. What do you want to know?"
"How many of you were there?"
"Including myself, five."
"What kind of specops are you from?"
"Sorry mate, can't answer that one."
"What is out there?"
To that question, the soldier glances at the window once again before he answers:
"It's a… very dangerous thing. It recently came back to this area and intends to reclaim what it sees as its territory. Have their been any livestock missing here?"
The couple looks at each other: The wife heads to get their child, the husband produces a hunting rifle and some ammo from a cabinet. He passes the rifle to the stranger.
"I won't be huntin' without knowin' my partner's name."
"You won't be fighting it with me, it's too dangerous."
"Horseshit. This thing cost me many swine, and if it thinks it can endanger my family, it better go back to whatever hellhole it crawled out of. Been in the army, too, so don't be thinkin' I'm some yellowbelly greenhorn with a gun."
"Do you know how to use it under pressure?"
"I wouldn't have it if I didn't."
"…The name's Maurice."
"Daryl Dell. Now let's get this sumbitch."
The silence is suddenly broken by a shattering of glass on the upper floor, immediately followed by two high pitched screams. The two men sprint up the stairs, with Daryl racing up the stairs and bursting through the door first, with Maurice trying to keep up with him. What he sees in the room slows down time for him: A creature seemingly made out of branches and shadow, the shadow snaking around the branches, ensnaring the wood, its gruesome form hunching so it may fit in the child's room, its root feet crunching the glass from the shattered window and parts of furniture. In one hand, it holds Anne by the neck, the woman hitting the long wood-talons in vain, trying to release herself from the grip. The swarthy abomination turns its gaze towards Daryl, its hateful, brimstone red eyes shining through the dark of its being, piercing his soul. For a moment that seems to stretch forever, Daryl does not know what to do. And in a moment, Anne's neck is snapped with a wet, sickening crunch.
As her body falls to the ground and the creature extends its grasp to do the same to the farmer, a yell fills the room and a blast explodes next to his ear. One of the hateful lights extinguishes as the abomination screams in agony, the room getting showered in splinters and branches. Maurice shoots the beast again, and it begins retreating. As it does, one of its appendages snatches the terrified little girl trying to hide in the corner by the leg and drags away the screaming child through the window it entered. The father regains his senses and screams in terror and rage:
"NO!"
He runs to the window having to restrain himself from jumping out of it as he sees the creature scuttling into the barn, with the crying girl being dragged behind it. Daryl races through the room, past his dead love and the stranger, down the staircase and through the ground floor, smashing open the backdoor and sprinting towards the barn. His head hot, his vision red with fury and fear. The double doors of the wooden building are open, moonlight seeping into the dark structure. It shines on the tractor, the gas canisters, propane tanks and finally, a mangled plush rhino, its stuffing littering the dirty ground of the barn. Even before he sees her, Daryl Dell knows his only daughter is dead.
He screams out in agony and anger, and the creature lunges out of the shadows roaring in response to the challenge. Daryl does not think: He unloads three rounds into the beast before it even manages to reach him, but it does not stop. It collides with the furious man, throwing him onto the ground and attempting to maul him. The father refuses to allow the abomination the satisfaction of killing him, for he is fuelled by a berserk rage that makes him ignore the punctures and slashes he receives as he wrestles with the shadow-thing. Wood and bone crack, shadows and blood splatter and dissipate into the grass around them as man and beast fight to the death. They rip and tear into each other, their howls intertwining with each other. The man that had everything he loved taken away from him ignores his broken ribs, his lacerated limbs and thoughts of survival. Hatred holds his bones, fury flows through his veins and murder is on his mind and lips.
Through the red haze, the warrior hears it:
"Daryl! Get the fuck away from it, you stupid cunt!"
Something thuds next to him and he knows what it is. He uses the chance and plunges his fist deep into the thing's burning eye, pushing through the thorns and splinters tearing apart the unscathed flesh left on his arm, ripping out the remaining globe of crimson. The monster howls in agony, momentarily lessening its grip. Daryl uses the chance, ripping out of the beast's grasp and backs away.
He sees everything slowed down again, but this time he will not allow himself to lock up. He raises his Winchester, almost in sync with Maurice as he aims with the rifle. Before they pull the trigger and before the rounds hit the propane tank laying in front of the shadow-thing, Daryl mutters:
"Burn in Hell."
The explosion blows away most of the monster, the shockwave and its screams echoing through the night. The flaming carcass attempts to retreat to the forest, but falls and twitches on the ground, attempting to douse the flames. The macabre bonfire tries to grab Daryl once again, but has not the strength to do so. Soon, the twitches become weaker and weaker, until they are no more. There are only slowly burning twigs and charred remains now.
The victor begins dragging himself across the ground. Maurice runs over, his water canister in hand, but Daryl refuses to let the container get anywhere near him as he continues to crawl towards the barn. The soldier helps his comrade up and assists him with slowly getting inside the wooden structure in silence. There, he lays the father next to his daughter. Daryl holds the body of his child, it almost resembling a doll inside the farmer's arms as he slowly caresses the girl's hair. He rocks back and forth, cradling the child, breathing heavily as he does so. He cries without tears, mourns with no words. Finally, he raises his head and speaks:
"Will this thing return?"
"I do not think so."
"Good…Good.", Daryl says as he continues holding his daughter: "None deserve to go through anything like this. Are there any more like it?"
Maurice looks into the man's eyes and recognises the gaze that he was only told about by his peers and brothers-in-arms.A cold, yet white hot stare of determination and will. A look that spoke in one word: Vengeance.
"…Yes. Hundreds, if not thousands of different creatures like this one, all equally lethal, some even more. I and many others have been battling them throughout the years. Many of us have different reason why we have joined the battle, but we all share the same cause: To destroy the abominations that plague this world so humanity may live in true safety."
He offers his canteen to the farmer. The man stares at the bottle, and then takes it in his hand. He unscrews the top and peers into the dark depths of the canister, trying to see the bottom.
He takes a swig from the flask.
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{$translationblock} |
Registered Phenomena Code: XXX
Object class: Alpha-Yellow
Hazard Types:Additional Properties: | Aggression | Ballistic | Climatological | Geological | Grouped | Invisibility | Psychotronic | Sapient | Sentient | Transmutation | Bio-Hazard | Contact | Corrosive | Electromagnetic Force | Explosive | Extreme Temperature | Radiation | Toxic | Destabilization | Extra-Dimensional | Gravitational | Teleportation | Temporal | Auditory | Emotional | Ideological | Info-Hazard | Memory Alteration | Mind-Control | Mind-Regression | Sensory | Visual | Animated | Aquatic | Ecological | Extra-Terrestrial | Immeasurable | Incorporeal | Mechanical | Microscopic | Organic | Regenerative | Titanic | Tychokinetic | Replicating | Newtonian | Ontological | Divine | Hallucinogen | High Velocity | Proto-Mechanical | Proto-Newtonian | Proto-Sapient |
Containment protocols: Currently, RPC is uncontained and its whereabouts are unknown.
According to the available notes, RPC would require minimal containment efforts: In its inactive state, it is completely inert and unable to activate unless it is instructed to do so through physical contact.
Description: RPC is a ball with a ~10cm radius, woven out of bamboo, with approximately 60% of its surface covered in an unknown metallic substance. The interior is presumed to be mostly filled with the substance, as it is excreted through the holes of the woven bamboo. RPC is able to attach itself to man-made constructs and have limited control over their movements and properties. Objects that have interacted with RPC-XXX are believed to retain unspecified anomalous properties, and such objects are to be contained if possible.
Refer to the following documents for further information.
Operation “In ‘n’ Out”
Date: 1.17.2020
Objective: Recon of area and Recovery of Anomalous items
MST: November 12 (Dumpster Divers)
Team Members: N12-Cap, N12-1, N12-2, N12-3
Forenote: November-12 was mobilized with the goal of doing recon on a lower-level part of the crypt, an area that was used to host lower-level, non-hostile and even possibly beneficial anomalies, and was instructed to take any such easily transportable anomalous items with them if possible.
[BEGIN LOG]
N12-Cap: -sting, testing. Can you hear me, team?N12-1: Loud and clear, boss.
N12-3: No issues on my side.
N12-2: [Affirmative grunt]
N12-3: Come on man, you know Comms get pissy when they don’t know what we’re saying. Use your words, like we practiced.
N12-2: [chuckles] Fuck you. Also, all clear. Ready when you are.
N12-Cap: Alright, let’s go. There should be no light down there, so turn on your goggles when you enter.
[MST-17 enters the unmapped area of the crypt. 17 minutes pass without any significant events, MST-17 recording all pathways they go through. While approaching an intersection, N12-Cap halts the group and instructs them to move slowly and silently behind him. He approaches the intersection, and the equipment begins picking up slow, raspy breathing. N12-Cap looks around the corner and the camera picks up the source of the noise. A large creature, resembling a human with an elongated, wide torso with arms stretching to the ground and short and elephantine legs, is standing approximately 15-20 meters from the intersection, its back turned. N12-cap instructs the MST to follow his lead and quietly moves to the corner across. Moving last, N12-1 trips and falls down. The breathing halts. N12-1 looks at the entity, and the camera picks up its surface shifting in appearance, its torso starting to split apart vertically.]
N12-1: [quietly] Shit, shit, shi-
[N12-2 drags N12-1 behind the corner and covers his mouth. He points to an open doorway nearby, and starts moving towards it. The team follows, with slow, heavy footsteps coming from the hallway the entity was sighted. The team enters the room and closes the door behind them quietly. The footsteps and breathing become closer, and are heard through the wooden door. 7 minutes pass with the entity not moving from its new position. After that time, footsteps are heard moving away from the door’s position.]
[One minute passes. N12-3 slaps the back of the head of N12-1]
N12-1: If you do that again, I’m going to leave you for dead.
N12-3: Sorry, sorry. Won’t happen again. Captain, should we return?
[N12-2 is seen investigating the room. The location itself is relatively empty, with furniture covered by deteriorating sheets, tables covered by outdated and mostly shattered lab equipment, and a collection of cabinets on the wall opposite of the wall of the door.]
N12-Cap: It wouldn’t hurt. I don’t want to take any more chances, and I think we got enough info for HQ to be satisfied with. Let’s-
N12-2: [Taps his microphone three times]
N12-Cap: What is it, did you find something?
[The MST approach N12-2. He is looking at one of the cabinets, weapon raised towards it. The rest of the team approaches N12-2, and stops two meters from him].
N12-1: What in the…?
N12-3: Captain, can you -
N12-Cap: I can feel it. One, Three, stay here and have your weapons at the ready. Two, you’re with me.
[N12-Cap and N12-2 approach the cupboard. Positioned on the mid-level shelf, there is a simple wooden box with metal lock. N12-Cap tries opening the box, but it is locked. The camera is not picking up any significant changes.]
N12-3: Sir, we should take this in.
N12-Cap: Good idea. Two, could you carry it?
N12-2: [Nods. He equips a holster to the box and attaches it to his belt.]
N12-Cap: Alright. Let’s move.
[The MST move towards the door. N12-Cap opens it slightly to check for movement. After a few moments, he opens it and checks the hallway. With no hostiles able to be seen, he signals the rest of the team to follow. They move out, one by one. N12-1 suddenly stops due to a small rock falling from the ceiling besides him, and looks up. The humanoid creature that was sighted before is stuck to the ceiling through a collection of bone-like protrusions penetrating the roof of the hallway. Its torso splits apart vertically once again from the groin area to the top of the head, revealing a mouth filled with thousands of small, sharp teeth and dozens of rope-like flesh extensions expanding from the center of the mouth]
N12-1: [Screaming] SHIT, SHIT! MOVE IT, WE’RE GOING TO GET FUCKING KILLED!
[The rest of the team sights the creature and begins running. The anomaly releases itself from the ceiling and slams on the ground. Before the MST is able to create any significant distance, the anomaly's tendrils stretch out and attach themselves to the ankle of N12-1, making him fall on the ground. They begin dragging him towards it.]
N12-1: CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN, PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO DIE!
[N12-2 runs to N12-1 and slices off some of the tendrils with his knife. The tendrils let go of N12-1, but grasp the wrist of N12-2. They begin dragging him at an accelerated rate towards the entity, with more of them extending from the mouth and grasping around N12-2.]
N12-Cap: Open fire!
[N12-Cap, -1 and -3 engage the entity. Although the shots are connecting, the anomaly is showing no visible reaction to the bullets. Some of the tendrils detach from N12-2, and grasp at N12-1 again. N12-2 is dragged towards the mouth of the entity.]
N12-2: Say Hi to Katie for me, Max.
N12-3: NO!
[N12-2 pulls the pin on his grenade and shoves it into the entity’s maw. The following explosion bursts apart the anomaly, killing it. The tendrils let go of N12-1 and fall to the ground.]
N12-3: Nikolai, you goddamn idiot! Why?!
[N12-3 runs past N12-1 and starts trying to pull N12-2 out of the entity. N12-Cap and -1 join him shortly to help. They manage to release N12-2. Most of his arm is destroyed, and the side of his torso is damaged by the explosion and teeth shrapnel. The box he is carrying is also open, paper and varying trinkets spilling onto the ground.]
N12-3: Captain, we have to help him.
N12-1: Oh God, please don’t die Nikolai, stay with me, stay with me.
N12-Cap: I-I don’t think we can. W-we have to -
[The MST suddenly stops talking and looks at the box. A metallic substance is pouring out of the box towards N12-2. N12-3 approaches the box and opens it fully, revealing RPC-XXX in it. Slight audio and visual static begins manifesting when it is seen.]
N12-3: This is… Captain?
N12-Cap: …I can hear it. The higher-ups are going to be pissed if we do this.
N12-3: Fuck them, then.
[N12-3 picks up the RPC, and places it on N12-2´s chest. The metallic substance begins spreading across the damaged surface of N12-2´s attire and equipment. Clothing is seen tightening by itself around N12-2. The RPC stops moving once it has secured N12-2]
N12-1: Holy…
N12-3: He won’t fall apart now. Let's move.
November 12 successfully retreated to the Research Camp, carrying N12-2, RPC-XXX and the documents that were with it. Upon arriving, N12-2 received proper medical care and was moved to Site X for further medical treatment. RPC-XXX was recontained and scheduled to be moved to Site-X alongside other Lesser Anomalous items and some Alpha-White rank anomalies. The documents that were stored with RPC-XXX are able to be viewed in Addendum XXX-X.
The following is a collection of notes retrieved during the above logged operation. It should be noted that a large number of these notes and their copies are presumed either missing or destroyed.
A Diary for Discoveries, by Andrigo
A collection of pages from a diary of one of the artists working with renowned renaissance inventor and artist, Leonardo DaVinci (1452-1519), dating from the time Leonardo began creating various anomalous pieces of technology and art. Should any other records of this be recovered, or their location discovered, they are to be immediately reported to Lead Researcher Hamato.
“I have to start writing my thoughts down, or else I feel I might go mad. I informed Leonardo of my notes: The man, damn him, seemed overjoyed that someone will be making additional research notes besides him. Well, if he thinks I will be attaching my name to these projects and the people that make them, he can shove these notes up his ass.
The past few weeks felt like nothing: All of these people coming and going, some of them staying, others dropping off packages and material, with a few of them talking with Leonardo and some of the other colleagues behind locked doors. I didn’t bother trying to listen in: No sound escapes the room. The mans…”
“…mentation with mercury, or whatever resembles it. The liquid, nonetheless is like a fluid metal, but it reflects light in a way I saw no material do. I am not sure how to even describe it completely: Every time I see it, it feels like it stares back. Maybe I just need more sleep. The whole house is teeming with activity — scientists, artists and priests men in robes, all of them talking in between each other and passing notes. I feel as if we are slowly straying from the starting idea of creating things that benefit humanity, and now we are just testing what we can create with true, absolute freedom. Was benefiting humanity ever the actual goal, or was it a way to lure in other people, including mys…”
“…hen I entered the room, Da Vinci was in talking with a pair of the robed men (Did I ever see any of them without their hoods off?), and a few of his assistants were walking in and out of a curtained area of the room. Leonardo noticed me coming in, and shooed away the assistants as he saw out the men out of the room. He turned to me with a bright look on his face: ‘My good doctor, today is a marvelous day! We have reached a breakthrough that will change the world as we and the future generations will see it!’, he exclaimed. ‘It seems we do so every other day’, I replied snidely. He continued, not hearing my remark in his excitement: ‘But I know you are a man of action, and not words: Come, come, see for yourself at the marvels humanity is capable of creating with a little outside help.’
He led me behind the curtain, and as I laid my eyes on the creation, I am ashamed to admit that I was stunned by the sight of it. The brass contraption, sitting atop of a simple circular pedestal draped with some red cloth, was shaped as dissected human torso, lacking any organs besides a pair of cloth lungs, with what I assume was a simplified pharynx and larynx and the most intricately created pair of mechanical lips and tongue extending from the torso. On the ground, there was a blacksmith’s bellows, connected through a tube to the lungs. But what caught my eyes was the thing nestled inside of the chest of the torso, in the place of the heart: A basket shaped like a ball, with the same metallic liquid I saw a number of weeks ago oozing from its pores, across its surface, flowing and curling upwards through the throat and into the tongue and lips, like veins in a body. Da Vinci almost skipped past me, taking me by the hand to get closer to it. He put his foot down on the bellows, ready to press it and asked me, eyes almost shining with excitement in the dim laboratory: ‘Would you like to talk with it?’…”
“…een disregarding any other projects I had in mind, and I could not care less. This machine, if you can call it that, is a miracle of science: It seems to be able to adapt daily, increasing its awareness and intelligence. I have been teaching it history, psychology, philosophy, and so many other sciences, and it is showing no signs of overflow of information. It actually asked me today what purpose it has in life (It saw its own existence as life!!!): I replied that it existed to serve humans, and to my surprise it seemed quite content with the answer. I should probably spend some time teaching it about concepts such as souls and sapi…”
“…ervous. The test is scheduled for tomorrow. In hindsight, I wish I had been more active in the meetings, and continued voicing my concerns. The inventions seem to become more destructive in their nature, day by day. I am writing this in the dead of night, sitting next to the mercurial conscience. It seems to understand my worries and keeps quiet, leaving me to my thoughts. Curse you, Leonardo, for being so impressionable. Curse you, and your unwillingness to see the entourage of power-hungry and fame-greedy, self-proclaimed men of science. The vehicle they created for the test is ready, its wooden, shell like hull reminding me of a futuristic weapon of war. The inner machinery does not make much sense to me, but I think it was adapted to the… unique properties of the engine. Oh God, forgive me for what I have helped cre…”
[The remaining pages are filled with scribbles, ink blots or are just presumed to be missing. After some analysis and testing, a single excerpt was able to be recovered.]
“…ruction, so many possible innocent deaths. I cannot allow this to go any further. We are here to save human lives, not destroy them. I am not the only one who was horrified in such a manner, and we have a plan. I can only pray that we are successful in contacting The Auct…”
FURTHER ACCESS REQUIRES A LEVEL 3 OR GREATER SECURITY CLEARANCE
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SUBCONSCIOUS MEMETIC TRIGGER ACTIVATED
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USER STILL LOGGED IN
WELCOME
Object Class: Gamma-Red
Hazard Types:Additional Properties: | Aggression | Ballistic | Climatological | Geological | Grouped | Invisibility | Psychotronic | Sapient | Sentient | Transmutation | Bio-Hazard | Contact | Corrosive | Electromagnetic Force | Explosive | Extreme Temperature | Radiation | Toxic | Destabilization | Extra-Dimensional | Gravitational | Teleportation | Temporal | Auditory | Emotional | Ideological | Info-Hazard | Memory Alteration | Mind-Control | Mind-Regression | Sensory | Visual | Animated | Aquatic | Ecological | Extra-Terrestrial | Immeasurable | Incorporeal | Mechanical | Microscopic | Organic | Regenerative | Titanic | Tychokinetic | Replicating | Newtonian | Ontological | Divine | Hallucinogen | High Velocity | Proto-Mechanical | Proto-Newtonian | Proto-Sapient |
Containment Protocols: RPC-XXX is currently in possession of an Ambiguous GoI going under the name of Supernatural Termination Confederacy (STC), and being used to power their mobile headquarters. The Authority is currently unable to recover RPC-XXX, due to the possible repercussions and counterattack. Authority satellites are used to record any sightings under or on the surface of Earth's oceans and seas.
Should the Authority recover RPC-XXX, it is to be transported to Site-062. In case STC is still active, all Level 4 personnel are to be notified of possible assaults by the aforementioned group.
Additionally, in the event of satellites sighting The Bulwark emerging, Level 4 Staff is to be notified of a possible large scale STC operation, or one that requires a large number of “influenced” equipment.
See Addendum XXX-I for the report of the loss of RPC-XXX, and Addendi XXX-STC for an Interview with the PoI responsible for the handout of RPC-XXX
Description: RPC is a ball with a ~10cm radius woven out of bamboo, with approximately 60% of its surface covered in an unknown metallic substance. The interior is presumed to be mostly filled with the substance, as it is excreted through the holes of the woven bamboo. RPC is able to attach itself to man-made constructs and objects, and have complete control of the object, though it greatly reduces its speed and strength of secondary properties if the object is of significant size.
RPC-XXX uses an unknown form of energy: While it is finite, it does not decrease over time. The energy is “implanted” through physical contact into an object, which allows RPC-XXX to control it and magnify its properties and capabilities. If it is separated from the object, it will be unable to remotely control it, but the object will be anomalously “irradiated”, exhibiting abnormal properties, examples include bullets capable of damaging usually-resistant materials and beings, small objects capable of lessening anomalous effects, and liquids that accelerate the recovery of injuries. These effects deteriorate over time, but its speed varies from object to object, depending on its size and length of exposition. It is believed that RPC-XXX is able to increase its pool of energy by integrating other forms of it, be they regular (eg. electrical, thermal and nuclear) or anomalous in nature. Most of its energy is directed at the movement and upkeep of The Bulwark, the STC aquatic headquarters.
RPC-XXX has also shown sentient and limited telepathic properties. Sapient creatures are able to sense basic emotions emanating from it when in its close vicinity, and are able to understand its intentions. The RPC is also able to communicate through audio equipment, such as speakers and earphones. It is unable to extend this property through wireless equipment. RPC-XXX has a limited perception of the world around it, and relies on the guidance of anyone able to communicate with it.
Addendum XXX-I
After Operation “In ‘n’ Out”, RPC-XXX was assigned to be transported with additional lower-level anomalies the following day, mostly due to it not showing not any hostile or dangerous properties. Fifteen minutes after leaving, a concentrated EMP blast temporarily disabled the equipment at the Vesuvia site, forcing the team to repair it and not being able to contact the transport. Once it came back online, comms were unable to contact the vehicle, and the GPS tracker was offline, deactivated or destroyed. Assuming the transport was attacked, available MST operatives were mobilised and a chase was initiated. Convoys were deployed on the ground and an Authority helicopter was dispatched to provide arial support. The van was found half an hour later, driving off the planned route towards the south of Italy. Authority vehicles gave chase. After some time it became apparent that the stolen transport was heading towards Borgata Marina, and an interception was organised. Even with organised traffic blockage, the vehicle managed to reach the destination five minutes before Authority agent were able to catch up. Upon the arrival of agents, a violent explosion erupted from the beach. Investigating the sound, agents discovered the destroyed vehicle and the driver, MST operative N12-3 waiting for them. A small motorboat was quickly moving seawards, away from the beach. While ground units apprehended N12-3, the Authority helicopter followed the motorboat. The motorboat advanced until reaching the Mediterranean sea, and going to the ████████ oil rig, a construction that was presumed abandoned. Passengers boarded the rig and climbed into it. The helicopter was unable to land on the rig due to a number of armed personnel dressed in unknown military garb positioned on the surface of the rig. After approximately twelve minutes, the personnel quickly entered the interior of the rig, and the construction began to slowly sink under the surface. After two minutes, the helicopter was unable to see any signs of the construct.
The collection of anomalies were destroyed in the van's explosion, and the rig was presumed destroyed before it was sighted a month later near the coast of Siberia. Ex-Operative N12-3 was arrested and interrogated (See Addendum XXX-STC).
Addendum XXX-STC
Interviewed: Ex-Operative N12-3, Maxwell Crow
Interviewer: Senior Security Staff ███████ (SSS█)
Foreword: Senior Security Staff ███████ was accompanied by two armed personnel, and Ex-O was cuffed to the table.
<Begin Log>Nothing is exchanged for the first three minutes. SSS█ and Ex-O watch each other.
SSS█: Why did you allow yourself to get caught?
I know your abilities. You wouldn't be in November-twelve if you didn't know to worm your way out of situations.N12-3: I'd have the whole Authority going after me for the rest of my life. Even for someone like me, that is bothersome.
And I don't think it is time for hiding anymore.
SSS█: Who do you work for, Crow? The RCPA? Malthus? GARD?
N12-3: No one as big as that sir, you don't need to worry.
SSS█: Then who?
N12-3: You'll have to forgive me for going on a tangent here, sir but I must.
When was the last time you saw someone die in front of you?
SSS█ stays silent. Ex-O continues speaking.
N12-3: I know mine. A year ago I saw my friend ripped apart by a wall. I saw the life leave her eyes as her torso was separated from the rest of her body.
And a few months before that I identified the body of my brother after RPC-███ escaped containment.
And even before that, I saw my captain sacrifice himself to let me and the rest of the team escape.SSS█: What's your point?
N12-3: My point is, sir, that there must be a better way of dealing with anomalies than taking them alll to one place and hoping nothing bad happens. Wouldn't it be easier to save all those good people and just destroy what we find? Spare all those innocent lives?
SSS█: You know we can't do that.
N12-3 Jumps from his seat and slams his fists on the table. The armed personnel move to restrain him, but SSS█ stops them.
N12-3: Won't, sir, not can't. That is the key thing extinguishes so many lives.
I am not the only one who sees it like this. And I am not the only one who is from the Authority that shares such views.
You keep sacrificing good men and women to these beasts, and for what? To pat yourself on the back and call yourselves protectors of the Earth. You disgust me.SSS█: We are protectors Crow.
N12-3: You are power-hungry megalomaniacs. You know, [Ex-O chuckles], you know, there are some of us who have a theory. Would you like to hear it, sir?
Some of us think that RCPA is not our parallel, but our future.SSS█: Enough. Unless you start giving actual information, I'll give you to someone who can get it out.
N12-3: Choosing your words to keep a clean log, Sir? How admirable.
But alright. I'll put it this way, and then you can do what you want with me.
In all these years of the Authority existing, there were personnel who believed there was a better way of doing this. A more humane, fairer way.
They silently collected information no one would notice missing, including some notes from the monastery our ancestors managed to acquire.
They created allegiances with like-minded individuals from other groups, some coming from those groups you fear so much. All of them willing to set aside their differences so they can create a better world.
A world without anomalies.
Time passed and we created research points in places our groups did not go, hiding our equipment and forces. We were not many, and still aren't, but with the ball that we just acquired… Well, It's going to help.
So, send me to your friends, sir. Show me how you protect humanity by taking its lives and leaving the true monsters in underground cells. Keep telling yourself you are saving the world.
The Supernatural Termination Confederacy will continue its work, until we are under no threat.<End Log>
Closing Statement: After the interview, N12-3 was subsequently transported Cell Block B of Site-009 where he still resides. Any uncovered double agents are to be immediately arrested and interrogated before being sent to Site-009.